One More Memory
by Simultaneity
Summary: Sequel to Behind the Mask. After the rebellion, everything seemed to calm down, but paradise never lasts. Peeta's mind further crumbles as everything contradicts what he believes. Can a familiar face save the baker from his own mind or will the Capitol still win even after it has been long defeated? But then again, maybe the Capitol's return is the least of their worries.
1. Chapter 1

Please read Behind the Mask first if you haven't already, this is a major spoiler to the first story. Obviously, since it is a sequel…

Again, I don't own anything.

* * *

The train whistled past the edge in to District 12. The woods were a familiar view; their border around my home was forbidden to enter. The fences were torn down and we were allowed to explore, but I never have. Houses were dotted here and there as people moved on with their lives. Ever since the rebellion ended, District 12 began to prosper; growing larger each day. No longer were we Panem's joke. People flocked to District 12; my dad said it was because of me, because I was some savior or something. Part of me missed how District 12 used to be. Even though living was easier, there was to many people. They all wanted to meet the man that defeated the Capitol. If it was true, then why did I feel like I betrayed everyone? I wasn't a savior, I was on the wrong side yet still I was praised for my accomplishments.

My dad told me that if it wasn't for me, the rebellion would have never ended. It aggravated me; I was there, that part I do remember. He didn't know what he was talking about. Even still, three years later, I still felt loyal to the Capitol leaving me even more lost than I already was. How can someone remain loyal to something that doesn't exist anymore?

My thoughts twisted in my head. Even though three years had passed since I realized my memories weren't really my own, I still had trouble accepting them. The easiest to sort through was with my parents, but it was still difficult to sort them out. My head tells me I love my mom, that she actually cared about me. I quickly learned that wasn't the case. Being the savior of our country, you'd think she'd have at least come to love me more. I hated my dad at first for the same reason, like he was trying to win me over because of what I did. It took a year to finally accept that I liked my dad, but still my head tells me differently.

Probably one of the hardest things to accept was the praise and recognition. I was stopped regularly, people congratulating me, thanking me. They'd tell me things are better for them. My dad told me I used to care, that I wasn't so cold hearted. I tried to be that person, but it was hard. That's not who I was anymore, I had that ripped away the moment Cato ran me through with his sword.

That was the worst part. Cato. The question I couldn't stand from people. "Where's Cato? I was rooting for you two in the arena!" How could everyone see that I was in love with him when all my memories said the opposite? The torture I endured because of him. It wasn't from him, but still his fault. I wouldn't even have been there if it weren't for him.

Yet still people pried, I wanted my own answers and I found them. I was on my way home from District 2, finally working up the courage to talk to him. I had no regrets. He helped me free myself, even if only for a moment, which is something no else was able to do.

Actually, I did regret one thing. I wasn't able to say good bye to his face. I must have written that note a hundred times listening to his soft breath as he slept; knowing it like the back of my hand, but everything came out wrong.

'_I'm sorry, Cato, but I had to leave. I don't want you to regret what happened, because I never will. It gave me the first happy memory of you that I know is true. I've realized that asking you to help me was selfish, it's something I need to figure out on my own. You know better than anyone, you can't build a house in one day. I'll need some more time to find myself. I can tell you still love me, and it hurts me to say that everything in my head won't let me say it back. It's the reason I had to leave, watching you care so much for me when I can't return the favor. Someday, I know I'll be able to come back. Come back to tell you, to be there for you like you have been for me.'_

My head pulled me one way, but my heart another. Out of everyone, I hated him the most. Part of me still does, but I learned to try and make new memories; the reason I forced myself to go. I didn't expect it to be so difficult. The touch of his lips still lingered on my own; making me glow, but feel like dirt at the same time.

I slammed my fist into the table in front of me, my emotions conflicting and scaring several of the passengers. I heard their quiet murmurs, "Is that him?" "It can't be… But this is the train to District 12, it could be."

Looking out the window to distract myself, I watched the endless forest fly by wishing I was home. Anywhere to be alone. I was tired of everyone's obsession with me. Why couldn't I just live a normal quiet life anymore? Let myself forget everyone that mattered in my life.

"P-Peeta?"

Slanting my eyes, I rolled my head to the side catching a little girl. Wait, not a little girl, she had to be at least 15. "What?" I asked coldly.

"You probably don't know me, but I wanted to thank you."

I grumbled, having heard the same thing from countless others. "I'm tired, kid. Do you mind?"

"Sorry, but I'd never get another chance. You see, I was the girl reaped in District 2 that year. Clove volunteered on my behalf."

"What's your point? People volunteered all the time in District 2."

"But still, that could have been me. Clove saved my life that day, and then you and Cato saved me yet again." She had tears in her eyes, but all I could think of now was Clove and Cato.

"Look, kid. I don't know what you want me to say. I'm glad you're happy that I suffered and was completely alone. That instant fear you had in you when you were reaped? Do you remember that?" She nodded, tears still her eyes. "Just be glad it lasted only a moment. I've got a life time of suffering."

I felt bad at the comment, knowing that this wasn't who I used to be. "You were never alone; you always had Cato. You just won't let yourself remember. You helped Cato break free, let him help you."

My attention returned to the window, the platform to 12 now in view. I was almost home and didn't want to talk to this girl anymore. She spoke of Clove and Cato so highly. The Clove I remembered was careless, nothing but a mere tag along. As for Cato… Everyone tells me I helped him become who he is now, I even watched it in the hospital when they tried to jog my memory. Why can't I remember it then? How is he supposed to help me when I can't even remember helping him? This is something I have to do on my own.

"Try to remember, Peeta. You deserve happiness more than the rest of us." The girl returned to her seat and the train started to slow down. Maybe she was right. I tried to remember, but I never really let myself; always pulling back because it was to painful. Maybe part of me was still buried deep waiting to spring free. It had to be true, otherwise the rebellion would have ended differently. I could have killed him, but I didn't. I endured torture for him at the hands of the Capitol, set rebels free. Why would I go against everything my head told me? Maybe I really did need Cato. He's been there once before.

The train stopped at the platform and everyone on the train gathered their belongings, ready to stretch their legs from the long ride. No, I couldn't let Cato back in, at least not yet. I couldn't trust him. I wanted to, but I couldn't. My head started to pound, my memories crossing and igniting in my head. "What the fuck am I supposed to do!?"

I crumbled in my chair feeling my body go limp as memories flooded my head. New and old. Cato holding me in his arms, no that's not what happened, he was holding me down. That night a few days ago with Cato, that was real, I know it was. That wasn't him, it couldn't be. He stabbed me… No, it was dark, I was trying to protect him and stabbed myself. He could have let me fall when the ice cracked, but he didn't. He was using me at that point. Clove was there, but how could she be? She was already dead. Right, that happened to me, too. I'm supposed to be dead. Clove wasn't the same, that's the same thing that's wrong with me. I'm not the same. What _**is**_ wrong with me…

* * *

"Peeta?" What was that? Who's there? Where am I?

"Peeta, are you alright?"

Why is everything so dark? My head feels like a sack of flour, heavy and dead. I couldn't be dead, my head hurt too much.

"Peeta, what happened?"

I tried opening my eyes, the light too bright. What happened? I don't know, shouldn't I be asking you that? Your voice is familiar, who are you?

"Come on, Peeta. Look at me, what's going on?"

"Cato?" I asked, my eyes focusing, trying to see the blonde boy.

"No, Peeta. I'm not Cato."

Not Cato? I shut my eyes again, the light piercing through my head painfully.

"I heard him shouting. I ran back here and he was just sitting there like that."

"Come on, son. You have to wake up, tell me what happened." Son? Dad? I tried to open my eyes again despite the pounding in my head. My focus was off, still seeing Cato. I couldn't trust my head, now I can't trust my eyes.

"Where am I?" I somehow managed to say something.

"You're on the train. Some of the passengers said you blacked out."

"Make way, coming through." A female voice broke through. There must have been a crowd. Not really a surprise. It's not every day _the_ Peeta Mellark blacks out on a train.

"What do you think could have happened?"

"Let me work. Peeta, can you tell me who I am?" I tried to make her out, but all I saw was Clove. Or was it Katniss? I tried to shake my head, but only managed to close my eyes.

"Mr. Mellark, can you tell me more about what happened to him? I only heard what they wanted us to know." Whose voice was that?

"He's had memory problems. Convinced he remembers things that never happened and denies things that have."

"Hmm. Was hoping they might have left something out so I could help. Peeta? Can you open your eyes again for me?" Opening them this time was easier, I felt my body starting to recover and my vision focus. Katniss' mom, the conductor, and my dad were standing around me, a crowd by the door.

"My head still hurts, but I'm feeling better." I mumbled trying to push Katniss' mom's hand away from me. I've been stuck in a hospital for to long and didn't want anyone analyzing me anymore. Why was she helping me anyway? It was partially because of me that her daughter was dead. It was just the three of us left that night.

"Peeta, people don't normally black out for no reason. What happened?" My dad asked.

I didn't want to explain myself, this was my problem.

"I think it's my fault." The little girl from before stepped forward. "I think I unnerved him, trying to make him remember what Cato meant to him."

"Memory overload maybe?" Katniss' mom asked out loud. "I don't really know enough about it, I'm just a simple nurse. Maybe someone else would know? Any of the Capitol doctors in 12?"

I felt like a project all over again. People just waiting to pick my brain, see the extent of how messed up I was. "Just leave me alone." I mumbled, standing up.

"I just want to go home." I walked towards the exit, the crowd watching my every move. "Would you all get out of my way?"

The crowd hesitated at my outburst and slowly filtered a path out of the train for me. Why was everyone so interested in me anyway? Who cares if I was the front runner of the rebellion, I didn't do it alone. I bet Cato wasn't getting the same treatment I was. Maybe it was because I was a freak, an abomination.

I started my walk home, feeling slightly unsteady on my own feet. The sooner I was out of sight, the better I would feel. My head pounded at each step constantly reminding me of my breakdown. Stumbling into the house I spotted my mom.

"It's about time you got home." She scolded, "The bakery isn't going to bake itself."

I rubbed my head, listening to her voice and demands pushed me further on edge. "Shut the fuck up!" I shouted and walked past her. Slowly I made my way to my room, my head pounding even more; filled with Cato, Clove, Katniss, and my parents.

My eyes started watering and I squeezed them shut and collapsed on my bed.

* * *

My dad appeared next to me; a grim look on his face and a glass of water in his hand.

"Peeta, what is going on?"

This was the problem. I couldn't talk to him, not like how he said I used to. That part of me hated him, yet the new memories I have of him wants to tell him; leaving me at a stalemate.

He must have given up on asking, his posture changing as he relaxed. "You've been out for a few days. We called in a specialist, someone who might actually know whats going on. We also told… Never mind."

"Never mind, what?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter." He answered handing me the glass of water. "All that matters is you and what's happening to you. Does this have anything to do with… Him?"

I groaned and rolled away from him. "You can say his name you know, it doesn't matter if I hear it. Still has the same effect."

"Well. Does it? You left to go see him and then you came back like this."

It had everything to do with Cato, but not the way he was thinking. It had everything to do with everyone. "Can we not talk about this? I'd rather be left alone."

"You've been alone for three years." My dad answered, "Maybe it's time for some help. The doctor should be here any time now."

There was a knock at the door and my dad stood. "Maybe that's him."

Cracking the door open my dad seemed surprised and whispered to the other person. "I'm not sure if right now is a very good time. Maybe tomorrow after he's seen the doctor?"

"Can't I just see him? Why call me if you're just going to turn me away?" No, that voice. Why is he here?

"We thought it would be best if you knew, we didn't expect you to jump on a train." My dad whispered, trying not to upset me even though I could hear everything.

"You drop a bomb like that and you expect me to just sit around knowing he's in trouble? No offense, but I thought you knew I'd protect him the best I can."

"And maybe the best way of doing that is by staying away right now."

"No, it's okay. This might get him to open up a bit. Hello, Cato. I'm glad you're here." A third voice echoed through the cracked door. "If what you say is true, he won't open up. Maybe if he's forced to face Cato, something will happen. Although I already have my own theory, I'd like to test it."

My dad shrugged and let Cato into my room. He sat down where my dad was sitting and tried to take my hand. I pulled it away, a sharp pain piercing through my skull. He looked hurt at my rejection but settled himself into the chair, rolling the black marble in his hand.

The session was full of questions I didn't want to answer. Cato called me out on our meeting, saying that he thought I was trying. That the note I left had hope but now we were back at square one. He wasn't going to give up on me, even if I hated him until the end. The doctor noted each time I rubbed at my head, the pain throbbing.

"I think that's enough for one day, Cato. Give the boy some time. I think I've come to a conclusion, and its what I initially thought." The doctor stood and walked to the door and waited for Cato to leave first. Cato hesitated, dropping the marble in my lap before he left.

"What's going on doctor?" I heard my dad ask.

"Well, it appears he's battling reality with what the Capitol implanted in his memory. The two are causing stress and essentially overloading his memory. That explains the pain he's experiencing."

Couldn't they have at least shut the door so I didn't have to hear them talking about me?

"The Capitol's intent was to use him was as a weapon to take out Cato. The sad truth, the Capitol didn't care what happened to him long term, probably hoping he'd die in battle."

"So what are you saying?" Cato asked.

The doctor sighed. "He wasn't supposed to live this long."

* * *

A/N: It'll pick up, I swear. The two of them will have to face more than just Peeta's memory. In due time, the plot will unravel. Anyway, here's the first chapter since most people voted for a sequel. Hope you enjoyed. Again, stay patient. It will pick up.


	2. Chapter 2

One particular little bastard forced this out of me. Feel better, buddy. Enjoy

* * *

I wasn't supposed to live this long? Just a weapon to the Capitol? I refused to believe that they ended up owning me in the end.

"So what happens if this continues?" My dad's voice drifted into my room.

"I can't say for sure. He may end up losing his mind completely, trusting no one. He may end up dead, his brain no longer being able to keep up. Who is to know?"

"Is there anything you can do?" Cato's voice sounded aggravated. Why did he still care so much about me? "There has to be! We can't leave him like this."

"If I had access to the tests they did on him, I might be able to reverse it; Give him back his old memories." The doctor paused and the silence left me wondering. Again, I'm going to become someone's project. "Of course, it is all up to Peeta."

"Why wouldn't he want to?" Cato piped in.

"Cato…" My dad interjected, "Peeta's different now, he may not even want his old memories back."

"But he does! Why else would he have come back for me? Save me even?" Cato's voice was hoarse. It pained me that he cared so much for me and I couldn't return the favor. My hatred of him dwindled, and I was able to feel pity for him. "At least for himself. His condition is hurting him. You'd have to be blind not to tell."

"This conversation is pointless. It's up to Peeta." The doctor informed. "If he isn't willing, than there's nothing I can do."

"Agreed." My dad answered back. "There's no way I'm putting him through anymore if he doesn't want to. Even if it means he'll look at me differently for the rest of his life."

I heard Cato groan and the shuffling of feet back towards my room. Did I actually want to go? I didn't have any trouble since Cato. That one last memory setting everything into motion. Since, my head has pounded. I didn't want to go back to that city, nothing good came from it.

"Peeta?" My dad pushed the door open. "We've come to a conclusion."

"I know, I heard everything." I scolded, rolling over in my bed.

"Then you know that this probably won't stop?" The doctor asked. Cato sat quietly in the corner, sulking. "It'll only get worse unless we do something."

"I've spent enough time in a hospital." I whispered catching Cato's eyes. He looked away from me hurt.

"It won't be a hospital. It'll be in my research center." The doctor answered.

"What's the difference? I'll still be your project."

"Dammit, Peeta!" Cato shouted. "Just do it! Not for any of us, but for yourself. You might die because of your stubbornness."

Silence filled the room, letting me think it over. Was there anything in this world even worth living for anymore? Nothing is the same. Maybe death would be my release. My head pounded against my skull.

"Do you…" Cato started looking in my eyes. "Want to die?"

I didn't say anything to his comment, my head only hurting more as I contemplated everything. Maybe if I did get my old memories back, everything would be better; I'd find my purpose again. I could walk down the street and understand the praise I received. I'd stop being so hateful.

"Let's give him a moment to think it over." The doctor stated. Both him and my dad left the room, Cato staying behind for a moment.

"Peeta." His voice was softer reminding me of the last time we were together. "It's okay if you don't want to. I have my own selfish reasons for wanting you to go through with it."

I watched him as he moved closer to me and sat on the edge of my bed. The untouched marble rolling down my lap from his weight. "You know, I've never been the best with words. That was always your thing. All I have to say is shut your mind off; it worked last time. Live your life the way you want to. Shut everything out and make your own decision."

"Isn't that what you did a long time ago? Shut your mind off?" I retorted. "Do you want me to turn into the person you used to be?"

Cato moved closer to me. "That's not what I meant, and you know it." He grabbed the marble off my lap. "You're kind of like what I used to be. You let yourself become emotionless. Don't let that happen. It's like what a dear friend of mine told me once. I think it's relevant here since you look like you've given up."

"Sometimes, it makes life worth living." He whispered voice cracking. "Don't give up, Peeta."

He was right, he wasn't the best with words, but I understood what he meant. I was already thinking through it anyway; re-find my purpose. He stood from my bed and started towards the door leaving me alone once again.

I needed to stretch my legs. According to my dad, I've been lying in bed for a few days. Standing only brought more pain as everything surged through my head. Grabbing my head and stumbling over my own feet, I made it to the door and spotted the three of them sitting at the table.

Walking up to them, Cato stood quickly. Concern washed over his face as I stumbled towards them. "I've made my decision."

My dad turned in his chair and watched me make my way to the table. Sitting down, I rubbed my head and squeezed my eyes shut, the pain causing me to see white.

"Take this." The doctor offered a tablet and some water. "It'll help the pain."

I hesitantly grabbed the pill. What do I have to lose by taking it? Either it'll help or do nothing. I popped it in my mouth and downed the glass.

"What's your decision?" My dad asked.

"I've decided to go." I replied eyeing the three of them. "Have to find some reason to continue. And these headaches are killing me."

"I can't guarantee it will work." The doctor explained, "It's just a theory after all."

"I don't care."I mumbled. "I need to know, have to find myself. If you can help, then great."

"I'll come with you." My dad offered. "That way you won't have to be completely alone."

"Me too." Cato jumped at the opportunity.

I groaned at the thought. It was tough enough having my dad with me, but Cato on top of that would be too difficult. My dad How was I supposed to tell him no in a nice way? I'm sure if what everyone says and this theory works, he'll be the first person I want to see. But right now, I didn't want him around.

"Cato, I don't know if…" I paused trying to word it right. "Maybe you shouldn't come. My head hurts more when I'm around you."

I knew there was no way of telling him in a way that wouldn't hurt. The look on his face made me feel like a complete ass. At least I had that; he was starting to grow on me again. After all, it is hard to hate someone who holds you so high.

"That might be best." The doctor answered. "I'm sorry, Cato. We need Peeta as comfortable as possible during this if we want this to work."

"But…" Cato started but my dad interrupted him. "I know it's hard, Cato. Think of it this way, if it works, he'll be back in your arms."

Cato tightened his fists and stormed out the door. "Don't think he's taking it well." My dad answered. "Poor kid, he's trying so hard and getting rejected at every turn."

"Well, what does he expect? I already told him I needed time, yet here he is." I scolded.

"You have really no idea what that boy did for you, do you?" My dad retaliated looking me in the eyes. "Without him, you wouldn't even be here. It hurts me to see you push him away like that."

"It hurts me to keep him around."

"Anyway." The doctor interrupted. "Shall we continue our conversation? If we hurry, we may be able to catch the train yet tonight."

"Leaving so soon?" My dad asked surprised. "I didn't think we'd leave for a day or so."

"No, this is better." I answered. "The sooner, the better. These headaches are getting worse."

My dad nodded and stood up. "Guess we better start packing then."

Making my way back to my room, I shuffled through my things, finding what I wanted to bring. I didn't know how long we'd be there. I figured I didn't need that much, even if it wasn't the Capitol anymore, it was still a bustling city. And knowing who I was, people would probably just hand things over to me. I packed a few of my belongings and noticed the black marble out of the corner of my eye. It was still on the bed where Cato had left it after taking it from my lap. I didn't know how I felt about it. I'd probably want it after everything was done. Cato wouldn't be there, but the marble would be. I had to put how I felt about it right now away. I grabbed it feeling pain course through my head. Everything that reminded me of him hurt. I dropped it in the bag and closed it trying to put it out of my mind.

The walk to the platform wasn't easy. Cato was waiting outside my house and glared as we walked by. My dad asked him what he'd do while we were gone. He said something about staying in District 12 and catching the next train. Seeing me was too difficult for him right now and he didn't want to be on the same train with me. Part of me was happy, the other hurt. What did I expect though? I kept pushing him away. He said he'd always be there for me, but a guy can only take so much before they break.

Walking on the train, we had our own private compartment. I found it strange, even for me. I couldn't go anywhere without people recognizing me, but I never had my own compartment. It was spacious and had all the comforts no one needed but were nice to have. I relaxed into a large chair and let my head wander for what seemed like hours. Maybe I was too hard on Cato. Maybe I wasn't hard enough, there's always the chance that what happened to me is permanent. In that case, maybe I should have been harder. My dad didn't make things any easier. I could stand him, but there was still that distaste for him that lingered. The 3 years I spent with him made it easier, and I pushed myself to trust him.

"I'm gonna stretch my legs." My dad mumbled after hours of silence. The windows were dark telling me the sun finally set. He stood and made his way out of the compartment. I was left alone with the doctor who watched me awkwardly.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"Just observing you." He stated and pulled out a notepad. He pulled his chair closer to me and started scribbling something on the pad. "You seem a little stressed. I know this is probably hard, but I would think part of it would be a relief."

"Not so much stressed about the hospital thing." I struggled for my own words. Cato said I was good with them and I doubted him even more. "I guess more-so what would happen after that's bothering me."

"The unknown can be terrifying." The doctor answered, scribbling even more.

"Speaking of unknown, do you even have a name?" I asked him. If I was going to be stuck with the guy for a while, I might as well know his name.

"You can call me Dr. Folie." He answered. "Tell me more about this unknown your worrying about."

"Well, Dr. Folie, what else can I say about it? I've only been told who I am by other people. Kind of afraid of meeting the old me."

He put his notepad down and reached into his pocket. "Can I tell you something I'm terrified of? Might help you relax some."

"I'd rather not. Honestly I don't really care. I'll be fine." I retorted finding the conversation to take a strange turn.

"Let me tell you anyway. My biggest fear was the fall of the Capitol. I had it all then, now my research has been stopped and I'm slowly losing everything."

"How is that supposed to make me feel more comfortable?" I asked wanting him to move away from me now. What's happening here, what have I gotten myself in to?

"Don't you feel the same? What happened to that loyalty the Capitol implanted in your memory?" Dr. Folie pried. "It's gotta be down there somewhere. You couldn't have pushed that aside already. You obviously feel nothing for Cato, that boy that destroyed everything."

"You're starting to freak me out." I tried to stand but he grabbed my hand and cuffed me to the chair. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Bringing you back and fixing you." Dr. Folie started pacing. "You took everything away from me. After 3 years, I was surprised to see that your memories didn't come back yet. Honestly, your memories coming back are all theoretical, but it could happen."

"What do you mean fix me?" I didn't want to ask the question, but I didn't know what to do. The metal of the cuff dug into my skin and the chair I was locked to was too bulky to make an escape.

"The people like you. God knows why, I find you irritating. Always complaining about what the Capitol did to you. We gave you your life back, and then you spit in our face. If I can reset your brain to before that moment, you could persuade the public back and the Capitol could revive. With you running the campaign, the people would willingly line back up for us. That's how stupid they are. They're sheep, willingly following their leader's to their own graves."

"You have to be kidding me. All of this?" I pulled against the chair trying to free myself but not able to. "This was just some diversion to get me back to the Capitol? No wonder you were against Cato coming along. If he was here, you'd already be dead."

"Well done. Good to see that your brain isn't completely scrambled." Dr. Folie answered and my head clouded as Cato's memory pounded through my head. "But let's not forget you're the one that didn't want him to come along. All I have to worry about is your dad, but that shouldn't be too difficult."

"Why tell me everything now?" I never wanted Cato to be here more than right now. Headache be damned, I shouldn't have pushed him away. And where is my dad? I pulled against my restraint again sizing up the strength of the chair.

"Not like anythings gonna happen now. Once we get back, you won't even remember this conversation."

"And what of my dad?"

"Collateral damage. In fact, it'll work out even better. He could be the first of several unfortunate accidents caused by the president."

"You forgot one thing." I mumbled, trying to move myself into a better position.

"What's that?" Dr. Folie asked, his eyes slanting at me.

"I'm stronger than I look." Grabbing the edge of the chair, I kicked into it and pulled the arm off the chair, slipping the other half of the cuffs free.

"What's going on in there?" My dad came barreling into the room and Dr. Folie caught him around the neck.

"Come along quietly now, Peeta. Don't want anything to happen to dear old dad do you?"

"Really? All of this just because the new president cut your projects?" I didn't know what to think anymore. Were people really capable of this kind of thing? Wait, I knew they were first handed. I tried to forget, but I never could; not the memory of human nature when they feel cornered.

"Not just that. Life was better when the Capitol ruled. Now everyone thinks they can do whatever they want. Where's the order?"

"Peeta." My dad groaned from around the doctors hold. "Don't worry about me, get yourself out of here."

Easier said than done, the train was moving nearly 200 miles an hour. How am I supposed to bail without breaking every bone in my body? For the first time, I actually started feeling something; something inside me telling me to live. I wasn't going to sit back and let the Capitol rule my life like I was some pawn. I had to figure something out. Come on, you've spent enough time on these trains recently, there has to be something I can do.

"Quiet. Nobody likes a martyr." Dr. Folie whined and tightened his grip. My dad groaned against the hold. Come on, Peeta. These trains have to have something on them. Wait, the trains always had an emergency brake in each compartment for emergencies. Where was it?

"Are you going to settle down, Peeta?" The doctor asked. The lengths this man was going to keep his power, or to gain more at my expense. Try to keep him distracted and look for the brake.

"What'll you do to me if I do?" I asked trying to keep his attention on me instead of my wandering eyes. There, the other side of the room. Circling him, I hoped he'd keep his distance until he knew I'd cooperate. "I mean aside from destroying my memory. Again."

"Nothing, I'll just keep your dad here and let you sit quietly."

"Don't listen to him, Peeta!" The doctor's hold on my dad tightened again, cutting my dad's plea short.

That's right, circle with me; just a little further. Hopefully the sudden stop would get him to let go of my dad and we could both get the hell out of here.

"It's your choice, Peeta. We can do this easier." The doctor offered

"My choice? When has anything ever been my choice?" I retaliated inching closer to the break.

"It's always been your choice."

"Since when? When I was reaped? When I was revived?" I muttered feeling more and more like a pawn than ever. Reaching the brake, I knew I had to make my own choice, for the first time it was in my hands. "The choice was never mine. But now it is."

I reached for the brake and felt the sudden surge forward as the train moving at 200 miles an hour tried to halt. Loosing my senses, I flung forward into the wall. I was expecting it, but the force was more than I bargained for. Dr. Folie and my dad didn't fare as well, meeting the wall with a loud smack.

The train slowed enough for me to move towards the end of the cabin. I hollered for him to follow, but I didn't have time to help him. He told me to worry about myself anyway. Something I was more than willing to do at the moment.

The train was still moving when I opened the back door and saw the tracks rolling beneath me. I turned and saw my dad running towards me, the doctor on his heels. Reaching for his hand, I held it for only a moment. The doctor collided with him, pushing me from the train and falling to the tracks.

How fast was the train still moving? The last image I saw before colliding with the ground was the doctor pulling my dad back into the cabin. My back collided with the tracks first, the pain sudden; then black.

* * *

A/N: I kind of had to force the plot out, or no one would know what the hell was happening at all since it's in Peeta's perspective. Don't worry, this will get more twisted as I try to come up with more ideas to make this story rival BtM in suspense. Oh, and don't ask about the doctors name. Something I remembered from my French days. Hopefully I used it right. Anyways, hope you enjoyed and stay tuned for more. Don't think for a second the plot ends here.


	3. Chapter 3

I am much happier with this chapter. My last one bothered me so much that I just gave in and posted it. I think this chapter is much closer to what I'm capable of writing. Thank you for sticking around with this story yet.

* * *

Where am I? This can't be right? Something is digging into my back. My eyes shot open, the sun blinding me. None of this is familiar. Even though my whole body hurt, my leg and the pounding in my head tore through me. Reaching my hand up to touch my head, it felt sticky. The pain in my head screamed, my hand gently feeling around. Pulling my shaking hand away, I noticed the red covering my fingers.

What the hell happened? "You idiot! Get away from the tracks!"

Tracks? A brunette woman was running towards me, her arms flailing. "The train will be coming through soon! Get away from the tracks!"

What was I supposed to do? A random woman was running towards me and I'm bleeding from the head. I tried to figure out where I was, but nothing was familiar. My leg caught my attention, bent unnaturally. Great, how the fuck am I supposed to move?

"Move!" The woman shouted again. I didn't know what she was talking about, there wasn't a train even in sight.

"I can't!" I shouted back. There was no way in hell I was going to try and stand on this leg. The girl seemed to be convinced of danger, but I didn't see any.

She stopped for only a moment. "Peeta?" Now she was running towards me even faster. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

Doing out where? And who the hell is Peeta? If she didn't slow down she was going to slam right into me. What is this woman's problem?

She slowed down and sat at my side. "What happened to you, Peeta? We don't have time. I have to move you away from the tracks. Any moment the train will come through."

"What train? There isn't one in sight." I noted. The tracks seemed to go on forever, and neither direction showed any evidence of a train. I noticed the two axes attached to her belt and pulled away from her touch.

"What are you doing? Going to finish the job?" I asked. I crawled away from her the best I could, moving closer into the tracks. My leg followed along limply, pain pouring through me with every movement. Someone had to have attacked me. There's no other explanation, and now this woman is here to kill me off.

"What the hell are you talking about?" She bent over me, looking like she actually cared. "Peeta, seriously, you're going the wrong way. You have to get off the tracks."

"Quit calling me Peeta!" Anger suddenly filled me and vanished just as quickly. The shock on her face somehow told me she wasn't a threat. There was silence between us when she suddenly made a grab for my uninjured leg. "Don't touch me!"

She pulled me painfully off the tracks. I watched as my injured leg followed sickly behind me. I caught a hand on the edge of the track and pulled against her. "Don't think I'll just give up!"

"Peeta, quit being stupid!" She yanked hard on my leg, both of my hands clinging tightly to the iron track. For a moment we were at a stalemate. My blood slicked hand slipped and the woman had won. She dragged me at least another 10 feet from the tracks. I clawed against her and tried my best to kick against her hold on my ankle.

She suddenly dropped my leg and pinned herself against my chest. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have a death wish? Why are you in District 7? Forget that, what the hell happened to you?"

She didn't know? District 7? "Wouldn't you like to know…" I retorted, pushing myself against her weight on top of me. Without my other leg, I was helpless against her.

"Stop fighting me!" She shouted and pinned me hard against the ground again. "Let me look at you."

I stopped fighting her for a moment and tried to identify her. Who was she? Why did she act like she knew me?

"Peeta… Your head." She touched my head gently but the pain surged from her touch and I pulled away. She let go away and stood. She looked at my leg, still bent limply. Taking out one of her axes from her belt, she swung it menacingly.

Cringing, I tried to crawl away again. "I'm not going to let you kill me!"

"Peeta, there was a time when I tried that. You're not my enemy anymore." She grabbed my leg again and held me in place. "And stop crawling towards the damn tracks!"

I kicked against her again trying to free myself. I felt like a trapped rat and she was the cat playing with me. "I'm trying to help you, you dumb fuck!"

I stopped my crawling and looked up at her. "Then what the hell are you doing with the damn ax?"

"A splint, dumb ass." She yanked her belt off and aligned the ax with my leg and tied her belt around the two. While she was mending to my leg, the ground started to tremble. Trying to stabilize myself, I reached out around me. She yanked on my leg hard and I shouted in pain. My shout masked by the train that suddenly appeared out of nowhere; it's passing lasting only seconds and filling the air with a deafening noise. Loud enough to distract me from the raging pain centered around my leg and the woman's touch. The train disappeared and the air settled leaving us in silence only interrupted by my grunts.

"Guess you weren't lying about the train, then." I mocked as she finished with my splint and moved back to my head.

"What the hell did you think would happen on train tracks?" She sarcastically added and tried to clean the blood matted on my head. "Damn, Peeta. Thought you were smarter than that."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" I started to trust her more. After all she did save my life, even against my will apparently. One thing bothered me though. She seemed to know me, but I had no idea who she was. "And… Who are you?"

She stopped wiping at my head with part of her shirt and gave me an inquisitive look. "How hard did you hit your head? You're loosing it."

She attempted to start cleaning my wound when I pushed her hand away. "No, seriously. Who are you?"

"Peeta…" She stopped looking as if she didn't know how to explain. My trust for her was starting to vanish at her contemplation. "I'm Johanna. Don't you remember me?"

Johanna? I shook my head at her. The name didn't register with me at all. "I'm not your favorite person, we weren't exactly allies until the end. I can't believe you forgot about me."

"Allies? End of what?" I asked starting to panic.

"Peeta…" She had that look in her eyes again, a look that made me question the way I treated her earlier. How could someone who cares enough to help me be all that bad?

"Please quit calling me that." I muttered.

"What would you rather me call you?" Johanna scowled. "I don't much care for my name either, but I'm stuck with it."

"My name is Peeta?" Despite not knowing my own name, the question was still something that didn't sound right. Who the hell doesn't know who they are.

"You don't remember anything?" Johanna asked.

"Of course I do." I answered instinctively and then paused. Wait, no I don't. I don't remember anything. I was to busy thinking about Johanna trying to kill me that it never sank in. Where the hell am I? How did I get here? Most importantly, who the hell am I?

She held me down as I started to thrash in my confusion. "I'll take that as a no." I felt myself calm down as she ran a hand through my hair. "Don't expect me to do this every time you have a fit. It's not me."

Her hands in my hair grounded me. Reaching around her hips, I pulled her on top of me. Her yelp and the pain in my leg made me jump; her slap brought some clarity back to me.

"What the fuck, Peeta?" Johanna shouted and stood and continued to mutter. "Try to be nice, Johanna. He's a friend, Johanna… Fuck this shit, I'm no good at this shit. Make a pass at me again, and your leg will be the least of your worries. And Cato would be absolutely pissed and I'd probably die to. I'm not ready to die for you. Not anymore."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked finding myself lost in her mumbles.

"It's probably better if you don't remember…" Johanna muttered again and turned her back to me. "Some of us don't have that luxury. Think of it as a blessing. You can start over, and if anyone deserved it more, it's you."

"Johanna…" I didn't like that I somehow hurt her by trying to remember. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"Feelings?" She laughed spinning back to me. "Johanna Mason does not have feelings. Get your ass up. I'll bring you back to my house so I can get a better look at how massively you fucked up your leg."

"Could I get a little help?" I muttered trying to straighten my leg up and stand. I couldn't do this on my own. She grabbed my arm and draped it around her neck. She was taller than me, making her help awkward for both of us. We started our walk back to her house as I started to ask her questions. She answered what she could, telling me I was in District 7; something about lumberjacks. I was Peeta Mellark from District 12. She couldn't answer my question about why I was here and not back in 12. I started to wonder if I came alone. Johanna told me that I probably did. Apparently I wasn't a very nice person lately. It was hard to hear. I didn't feel like a mean person, I didn't think I had it in me to hate anyone. But then again, I had no idea who I even was. Who am I to be the judge of that.

She commented on how well I'm taking the news that my memory was gone. How else was I supposed to react? I couldn't remember anything and there was nothing I could do about it. She kept mentioning that I was better off without them, then why question it further?

We made it back to her house. It was bigger than I thought it would be for some reason. She didn't look like the kind of person to have such a large house.

She must have noticed what I was thinking, "Kinda big for me. But what can I say? They gave it to me for winning the…"

She broke off and paused. "Won the what?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter. You don't have to worry about things that don't exist anymore."

I nodded at her. I was curious but it seemed to bring her pain. I wondered why she stayed in a house that only reminded her of pain, but I didn't know her. She probably had her reasons.

"Why do you live out in the middle of nowhere?" I asked leaning against the wall while Johanna opened the front door and helped me inside. "I mean, it's pretty. But don't you get lonely?"

She laughed at my question. "I'm better off alone. Plus, when you're famous, you try to stay out of the public eye."

"You're famous?" I asked finding a seat at a chair in front of a large table. "What for?"

"Same reason I have this house." I nodded at her and dropped the subject. She paused looking at the floor before catching my eyes. "I probably shouldn't tell you this… But you'll find out eventually. You're actually more famous than I am. Another reason why I brought you here, the public would eat you up in your state."

"Me?" How could I be famous? What did I do? I was curious, but Johanna didn't seem to want to talk about it. I had so much to ask her, but she dodged each and every question about my past. I was starting to get frustrated with her. The only part that kept me at bay from exploding was that it seemed painful for her to relive.

"I have to make a call." Johanna muttered and started towards the stairs.

"To who?" I asked. I didn't want her to live. For all I knew, she could be using me. Playing me into what she wants. The fact that I'm famous, she could be anyone and created this whole thing just to get to me. She disappeared upstairs as my mind wandered. Maybe she brought me back here to kill me. She could be a serial killer. What person walks around with axes? Lumberjacks, right. What a load of shit. If they were lumberjacks then why are there so many damn trees outside her house? Taking me to a secluded area after everything that happened. Shouldn't I be getting help for my leg? Or the fact that I can't remember anything but the last couple hours?

She came back downstairs, sulking slightly. "You're not going to kill me are you?" I couldn't help but ask, my mind wandered too far and all signs pointed to it.

"If I was going to kill you, I would have killed you years ago." Johanna snapped at me and sat in front of me. "Now let me look at your damn leg before I change my mind."

I hesitated at first before letting her take my leg. Unraveling her belt, she released the splint and slide my pant leg up to look. "I mean, you bring me to this secluded area. You could be taking advantage of me. I am famous or something, I guess."

Her cold glare and twist of my leg silenced me as I doubled over in pain. "Shut up, Peeta. I'm not going to kill you." Her hands were cold against my skin as she felt around at my knee. The silence that filled the air was heavy and forced me to think about the person I used to be. Whoever that was.

"Somehow, you managed not to break it. I think…" Johanna broke the silence. "Think you just twisted it really good. Stay off it, not that I need to tell you that."

She unceremoniously threw my leg off her lap and stood up to grab some ice. "Here." She tossed the bag to me and walked off. "There's a bedroom over there, feel free."

I didn't see her for a few hours and made my way to the bedroom she told me of. I hobbled on one foot, finding myself to be slightly clumsy. From what Johanna told me, I expected myself to be slightly more… Graceful. Collapsing on the bed, I let my mind wander for only a moment before trying to shut it off.

I awoke, my head spinning from my dream. Ice, lots and lots of ice. A girl with an arrow in her eye. I had no idea who she was, but the dream me cared for her deeply. What kind of fucking dreams was I having? What could I even dream about?

"Where is he?!"

The slam of the door and voice made me jump.

"What are you doing here?" Johanna shouted back. "And don't just burst into my home."

"Don't play stupid with me Johanna, you told me he was here."

"Didn't think you'd be here so fast. He's in the room over there."

Someone was here to see me? I kicked my legs off to the side of the bed and sat at the edge. Running came from the room outside mine and the door creaked on its hinges angrily. A large blonde man nearly knocked the door off and rushed into the room.

"Peeta! What happened?" He ran to my side and pulled me to my feet. Pulling me close, one hand wrapped around my waist, the other holding my head. I was lost in the feeling, finding my own hands wrapping around his neck. I didn't know who this man was, but he was hot as hell and his embrace was warm. Holding him close, I never wanted him to let me go.

He pulled away from me surprised and let me fall back to the bed. "Did you just hug me back?"

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do when someone hugs you?"

"Peeta? Are you finally back or are you just playing some sick joke on me?"

"What are you talking about? Why would I play a joke on you? I don't even know you." The look in his eyes when I told him I had no clue who he was is something I never want to see again. It was the look of complete pain, I couldn't hurt him more even if I tried.

"It's me." He paused for a moment and knelt in front of me. "Cato."

He had beautiful blue eyes. I didn't want to hurt him, but I already did. "I'm sorry." It was all I could think to say. His hands were on either side of me; his head dropped to my lap while he choked back sobs. What could possibly make a man like Cato cry?

I reached my hand out and ran my fingers through his hair, trying to calm him down. I caught part of his strangled whimpers. What he said brought tears to my own eyes.

"_You told me you'd never forget."_

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A/N: So as you probably already know, I'll be working a lot lately and my updates will be taking a bit more. I only had to work a half day today so I wrote some, but it'll be harder from here out. I'll try to post as much as I can when the opportunity rises. Love you all. Hope you enjoyed. And much more to come.


	4. Chapter 4

Never forget? What did this man mean to me before? I sat silently, trying my best to comfort him; letting him cry into my hip. It was slightly awkward to say the least. Apparently I knew him, yet he was a complete stranger, and here he was openly crying before me. I didn't know what to say to him, didn't even know where to begin. His name somehow escaped me and I felt like now wasn't the right time to ask him for it again. His hands tightened on my sides; balling the sides of my pants in his fists. It hurt my twisted knee, but I wasn't about to stop him. A little pain was nothing compared to the sadness rolling off him. What could bring someone like him to tears. I tried to blame it on my memory loss, but something told me it ran so much deeper than that. Something told me the bond I once had with him was something powerful, something that shouldn't have disappeared.

His tear-red eyes looked up at me, my own being drawn on. Despite the sadness there, his eyes were a deep blue that unhinged me. I wanted nothing more than to take him in my arms. The thought surprised me at first. What were we? Did I used to be in love with him… Before all of this even happened?

I wasn't as surprised as I thought I would be at the thought of liking a man. The deep ingrained thought that a man can't love another man seemed irrelevant. For me the thought of him as a lover came easily, no denying it. Then why did this feel so strange?

"Please tell me it isn't true." His voice was weak, strained by the emotion he held on his sleeves. Someone like that was bound to be hurt; it didn't make me feel any better knowing that it was my causing.

"Tell me you remember me. The good…" He paused letting his hand fall back into my lap. "The bad. Anything. It's better than being forgotten."

"I.." What was I supposed to say? I didn't want to hurt him anymore than I already have, yet pretending would be even worse. I can understand where he's coming from. I couldn't imagine being forgotten, especially in the state I was in. If no one knew me, I'd hate to think what would have happened to me. "I'm sorry."

Our stare didn't break, our eyes telling him what I couldn't myself; that I couldn't remember him, couldn't remember even who I was aside from what I was told by Johanna. Our gaze never broke, even when he stood before me; wiping his eyes with the back of his hands.

"You once helped me." He paused, collecting himself. "You changed me, showed me who I was meant to be. I tried returning the favor when you were at your lowest; let me try again. Show you who you were meant to be. Show you what has been taken away from you to many times before."

"Before?" The word left my lips before I even had time to think about it. "This isn't the first time I've lost my memory?"

"Enough." Johanna was at the door. I had no idea how long she was there; apparently long enough for her to hear the last of our talk. "I normally wouldn't care… Can I talk to you? In private?"

What was this all about? The two of them left and my door was shut, blocking the two's conversation from me. I'm not some child that needs protecting. My body shook from my rising anger, ripping pain through my leg and my head. I forgot about the wound to my head; the sharp motions against the bed as I fell backwards reminding me of its existence.

I couldn't stay in this bed anymore. I needed to walk around. Leg be damned, I needed to cool off. If no one was going to tell me who the fuck I was, then I would find someone that would. I have the right to know who I am; who I was.

Something deep inside me trickled to the surface. Something Johanna said to me; telling me I was better off having forgot. Do I even want to know who I used to be? If it brought that much pain to Johanna, who seemed to be so strong, what would it do to me? Could something that terrible even have happened? Something no one speaks of because it brings nothing but pain?

My legs twitched, itching to move. I couldn't just sit here, letting everyone map out my life for me; waiting for them to tell me what I'm supposed to be. I had a fresh start, I had to make the best of it. I wasn't going to be some kind of pawn in their games. I'd figure out who I was on my own if I had to.

Kicking my legs over the side of my bed, I stood painfully; my knee protesting against each movement. Making my way to the door, I started to worry. I'd be alone if I left these two. For all I knew, the two people that actually gave a shit about me. But I'm famous; Johanna's words echoed in my head. Who knows who actually cares about me.

The man, his name was there somewhere, he cared about me. There was no way of denying that he cared. It was written all over his face. Taking my first steps towards the door on sore legs, my head suddenly felt light. It wasn't going to stop me. Nothing would keep me here any longer. Except maybe him.

His name… Cartel? No. That wasn't right. I felt stupid, clinging to someone I barely knew. Something about him drew me closer. There was more than physical attraction. Why him? Could it be that I was desperate for someone? The natural urge to be with someone, to settle; to be with him because he was the first person I knew that cared?

"—an idiot. You throw his past at him like that, you'll lose him forever." Reaching the door, I rested against it on my good leg, my other straining from the walk. "Is that what you want? You know me, I don't really care either way; learned it was easier to stay alone. You on the other hand are latched to him like some love sick dog. It's disturbing, but at the same time I see it. You earned your right in my book, but I won't let you tear yourself down because you're desperate to have him back. I won't let you make the same mistakes I did so long ago."

Have me back? That explains why I'm drawn to him. "Johanna, I appreciate it; but what else can we do? He'll figure it out eventually. Why not just tell him? I know if I was in his position I'd want to know. Actually, I was in his position…"

There was a pause, I tried to lean closer; wanting to know more. "The first time I woke up… After everything happened. You bluntly told me what happened. What happened to that Johanna? Don't you think he deserves the same thing?"

"It's Peeta we are talking about!" Johanna shouted loud enough for me to hear even if I was still in bed. "You can't compare yourself to him! You expect him to take the news as well as you did? Which I might add, wasn't very well. For fuck's sake, Cato. You didn't die! Betray everything you once loved; subjected to as much as he was. If that was the case, do you really think telling him everything head on would help?"

Didn't die… are they implying that I died? Could that be why I don't remember anything? That I was dead but somehow came back to life? A miracle like that couldn't happen. My leg strained under the overbearing weight of what I heard. Sinking to the floor, I let my head fall into my hands. I'm… dead?

"Never took you for the sensitive type."

"Never took you for the fucking dumb ass type." Johanna's response rang through, despite the clouding currently in my mind. "At least after I got to know you… Guess people surprise you."

"I'd still want to know." Cato's voice sounded stronger than the one I heard earlier; almost unrecognizable if the two were compared. After going over it in my head, he was right. I wanted to know. What did he mean to me? What's the great mystery that no one is telling me about? Am I even alive? Of course I'm alive, but if I died, how can I be here?

I wanted the answers; just maybe not all at once. I gathered my strength, picking myself off the floor and reaching for the handle. It wasn't up to these two to define me. It was my choice, not theirs.

Interrupting the two, both staring at me wide eyed as if they were surprised to see me. "Peeta. I… uhh, forgot you were in the next room." Cato rambled.

"How much did you hear?" Johanna took the more direct approach.

"Enough." I answered trying to work up the courage to tell two complete strangers to tell me everything they knew. "Enough for me to make my own decision. It isn't up to you. I want to know, but not everything at once."

Johanna was about to protest, but Cato interrupted. "Then we'll tell you. Whatever you want to know, just ask."

She looked about ready to kill him but held herself back. The first question that popped into my head was the obvious. I felt like an idiot asking it, but it was bothering. "Am I even alive?"

"Of course you are." Johanna interjected and then realization spread across her. "You heard us, didn't you."

I nodded at her, remembering there voices talking about how I died. "How can I be alive… if I died?"

"It's complicated. We can't really answer that question without telling you the whole story." Cato explained, stopping to find his words. "Are you sure you want to know it all? Everything that has happened since?"

"Maybe not…" The question still bothered me, but I wasn't ready for the whole story. Not yet. "Maybe not everything. A simple yes or no would be enough for me right now."

"Yes." Both of them practically shouted the answer before Cato took over. "Yes, you're alive. You'll understand in time, if that's what you want?"

I nodded again, finding the way both of them were looking at me discomforting. I started to regret starting the conversation, but I had to know more. I tried changing the subject, something that wouldn't flip my world upside down. "What did I like to do? I've got the feeling I'll be sticking around here for a while. Could use a hobby. Any ideas?"

"You used to talk about the bakery a lot." Cato answered looking towards Johanna.

"Not gonna happen, I don't have that kind of crap and I'd rather my house didn't turn into a muffin storehouse."

I thought for a moment, trying to think about baking. It didn't sound like the manliest thing in the world, but then again, who was I to judge my past self? At least my past self that I didn't know. "What about baking did I like the most?"

"Something about cakes..." Cato answered, his brow furrowing as he tried to concentrate. "Think you said you liked to decorate them."

"Decorate them?" I asked, "Like draw on them?"

Cato nodded at me hesitantly. For someone who claims to know so much about me, he seems very unsure. "Maybe painting then? It's kind of like decorating."

"That could work." Johanna answered. "This is District 7 after all, not to hard to come by paper. It'd give you something to do to keep your mind off everything that's happened."

"It's worth a try, I guess." Cato added while Johanna disappeared up the stairs leaving me alone with him.

He watched me looking on edge as if I was about to jump him. "Are you sure about this?"

"What else do I have to do?" I mentioned catching his eyes and losing myself in them. A few moments passed as I lost myself in him; the silence pulling me back to reality. "Would you rather I be bored? Plus, you said I like doing this. It might spark something."

"Who is to say that you enjoy painting? The two may have similarities, but they're still different."

"It's just painting, you're acting like my life will come to an end because of it." I didn't notice the irony in it until after I said it. Cato slouched and turned from me.

"I just don't want to see you hurt." He started walking towards the door, opening it. "I've seen too much of that in my life, already."

* * *

I started painting; Cato and Johanna slowly telling me more whenever I asked. I started to ask more about what happened. Johanna hesitated, but Cato answered all my questions. Cato told me we met at a training tower, not divulging more telling me I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the whole story. Apparently we were happy, but something changed that. It bugged me, but neither of them seemed to want to talk about that part, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know. Despite Cato's vague explanation, I felt myself gravitate towards him. I didn't know how to explain it, there was something about it... Something there that pulled me towards him.

I lost myself in my painting, drawing the one thing that stood out in my mind. Haunted me even, the image wouldn't leave me. It left me hopeless and at the same time hopeful. It confused me, but made me press on. Each stroke of my brush filling in the story, drawing me in; making me want to continue. The picture burned into my memory. A burning that mirrored my growing friendship with Cato. Something about him drew me closer, his touch like fire against my skin.

He seemed hurt by what I did to him, patiently waiting for me to come back to him. I didn't want to push it, waiting for more information before I decided to jump. I didn't want to hurt him, wanting to know everything before I let him in completely.

While I painted, Johanna disappeared each day only to return at night covered in dust. Cato spent his time mulling over rocks. One time he was real excited, showing me a small almost oval shaped black rock. I didn't understand why, trying to show interest in it; it only hurt him more. I didn't have the courage to ask him about it, not wanting to push him to far away. Another part of me felt that by not asking, I was pushing him further away.

My painting started to come alive, the white's, red's and orange's bleeding together with the gray. The unfinished project was overwhelming, fitting the picture in my head almost perfectly. I kept the painting to myself, trying to remember bits and pieces on my own if I could. Somehow the painting felt personal to me. As if I was painting it for only myself to see, not for anyone else.

Putting the final touches of grey on, I put my brush down and took in the incomplete picture. I suddenly felt angry. Why did I paint this? Where did this image even come from? Why did it make me feel even more empty inside than I already felt?

"Hey Peeta, I was wondering if you were hungr—" Cato barged into my room. Normally, I was happy to see him but not right now. I thought he knew better than to burst in on me when I was painting. It was my therapy, I wasn't supposed to be interrupted.

It happened in almost slow motion; the plate full of food falling to the ground, Cato's expression changing from happy to horrified.

"What?" I cringed, the plate smashing into the floor and covering it with cooked potatoes.

"What is that?" His voice was soft at first, growing as he pointed and repeated "What is that!?"

I moved to the side, thinking he was pointing at me only to find out he was pointing at my painting. "It's just something that popped in my head."

He crumbled before me, looking as if he was going to vomit. "Why would you paint that? Of all things you could paint, you painted _this_?"

I looked back at my painting, trying to see the hidden message. Sure it was grotesque, but it was the only thought I had that I knew wasn't explained to me. It just came back to me. "What about it?"

"You couldn't have painted her any other way?" He shouted, regaining his composure and staring right through me. "She deserves a better memory than that!"

"Memory?" I paused trying to figure out how Cato even recognized the scene. "You've seen this before? You know her? Who is she?"

"Of course I saw it! I was fucking there!" Cato shouted ignoring my other questions and turning on his heels grabbing the handle to my door. Before slamming it, he shouted. "I'm even in the picture, you jackass."

I was frightened at first by his outburst, staring at the slammed door feeling like a child who did something wrong and was yelled at for something they didn't even understand. On unsteady legs that have healed, I looked back to my picture.

Fuck, how could I have missed it? It blends in with the grey's. Behind the girl surrounded in red; the girl from my dreams, an arrow in her eye. Behind the trees, surrounded in the brush; the grey's and whites of the snow blending in with his snow gear was a man.

A man that bore a striking resemblance to Cato.

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A/N: More of a filler chapter so that things don't happen to fast. I also think it brings the old Cato back, something that was bothering me with his representation in this story. Please stick around for more, Peeta and Cato have much more in store but the rate at which people are reading this, it doesn't seem worth it to write since I did do this sequel by request... :( I hope this chapter changed your mind and you'll stick with me. As usual, I really hope you enjoyed.


	5. Chapter 5

I'm sorry! It's been forever since I updated anything! Here's a new chapter for everyone. Again, forgive me for my lack of updating. Also to my D6C readers... I have not forgotten about you! I haven't been in a very cracky mood lately, which makes writing it very tough. It is NOT done, nor do I have any plans of discontinuing it.

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The painting before me only brought more questions. Why was Cato in it? How did I paint him without even realizing it? Who was this girl that haunted me every night? Cato seemed to know exactly who she was; after his outburst, I wasn't sure if I wanted to ask him.

I looked at the picture more, trying to place it. The forest seemed like a faded dream, the only recognizable part being Cato, shrouded by the trees and snow. Was this a memory? It had to be; why would Cato be so upset if it wasn't. Did he feel the same way I felt about her? Every time I looked at it, I was filled with an emptiness that felt long gone. I wanted to remember more than ever now. Not only for me, but for Cato; I wanted to stop hurting him. Every little thing I've done seems to put him on edge. He doted as if I was some fragile glass figurine, that I would break at any moment unless he was there to catch me. I wanted him to stop, I wanted to be able to take care of myself; could take care of myself.

Another part of it was also because of this girl. The girl surrounded by her own blood. I wanted to know who she was, wanted to be able to pay my respects to her. Why did she die so violently while Cato just watched? _While I watched._ He wasn't the only one there, there was no way I could recreate this scene as accurately as I did unless I was there too. Why did we both watch her die? Why were we both still here, yet she wasn't?

Maybe I never made it through. Johanna said I died once, maybe I died here; along with her. Maybe that was why it was so much harder for Cato to see this. I grabbed the painting, it was still unfinished but I didn't want it anymore. Looking at it only hurt me further, bringing more questions than I was willing to have answered all at once. I had two people in my life, I wasn't about to push one of them away. In particular, Cato; there was something between us. I wasn't going to push him away because of a damn painting.

With the painting in my hands, I left my room and started to make my way outside. The fire place was roaring and the matches still on the table. Johanna must have started it but forgot to put them away. Grabbing them I left the house. Maybe painting was a bad idea, nothing good came from it. I set the painting on the ground, and gathered some brush to make sure the painting caught.

"What are you doing?" Johanna startled me. I thought I was alone. She sauntered over to me and noticed my painting in the dim light covered in dry leaves. "Really going to destroy something so beautiful?"

"It's a picture of a girl dying." I groaned striking the match. The flame flickered, mirroring the approaching sunset. "What's beautiful about this?"

"I could care less if you destroy it." Johanna jutted her hip at me. "Just thought maybe you'd want to keep it. It obviously sparked a memory. You shouldn't just toss it out because it isn't the happiest."

"Do you know her?" I asked, my eyes still transfixed on the flame slowly burning closer to my fingers.

She nodded at me, "I know her name. A few other things I was forced to witness, but nothing more."

My gaze switched from the flickering orange and red to her face; her tanned skin and dark brown hair contrasting the fire in my hands. "Would you tell me about her?"

"I think that's something Cato should do." Johanna muttered. "You know, you shouldn't just throw this away. I wish I could paint like you can. It's been so long since I've seen my loved ones and after time my memory of them dulled. I'd give anything to see them clearly one more time."

The sun was setting, casting its orange glow across the land. I was momentarily lost by its beauty; the flame flickering against my finger tips bring me back. Blowing the match out, I watched Johanna carefully. She looked as if she was going to continue, but she said nothing. I wanted to get my mind off of the painting, but maybe Johanna was right. Maybe I should keep it.

"It's beatiful." I muttered, trying to change the subject. Johanna looked at my painting and then back at me. "Not this, I meant the sunset. The color."

"Good to see that hasn't changed." Johanna spoke softly. "Both of you have this strange obsession with it. For as long as I've known you two, you both seemed to lose yourself in it. Even when all hell broke loose, it seemed to ground the two of you."

"The sunset?" I wanted to ask her about 'hell breaking loose' but I decided against it.

"Whatever, I'm done being all sappy with you. This isn't me." Johanna suddenly shifted and started walking away from me. "Burn the damn thing for all I care. Or keep it; just be careful about what memories you let in."

"What do you mean by that?" I tried to ask, but she wasn't responding. Only walked up to the house and disappeared inside. She only complicated things more, putting ideas in my head and not elaborating. And even if they did come back to me, how am I supposed to chose which ones come back. And what was that even supposed to mean?

I brushed the leaves off the painting and picked it back up. This damn thing had everyone's attention, and not in a good way. It was probably better if I got rid of it. Johanna was right, I needed to keep it. The scene before me might manifest if I looked at it long enough.

Walking back inside, I wanted more answers. Johanna never said anything and Cato was mad at me. I'd have to talk to Cato, somehow. I couldn't take it anymore. I wasn't a child that needed protecting. How long was I supposed to live in this fantasy world where nothing exists?

I spotted Cato sitting in front of the fire. I didn't want him to see me the painting but he already caught me walking in. His eyes mirrored the flames in the fire place; flickering angrily.

"Off showing the whole world?" Cato asked sarcastically and turned his attention back to the fire.

"I was trying to get rid of it." I answered back. I suddenly felt uncomfortable and didn't want to talk to him anymore. I had to push through it if I wanted my answers. "Didn't like your reaction to it."

"Should have thought of that before you painted it." Cato scoffed.

I was loosing my patience quickly. We only exchanged a few sentences and I already wanted to punch him in the face. "Maybe I would have if someone would fucking tell me something around here. How the fuck am I supposed to know what's off limits to my own memory?"

Cato shifted uneasily in his chair. "Suddenly nothing to say? I've known you for 3 days and you switch from crying in my lap to the silent treatment?"

He turned, the blue in his eyes a shade darker from the lack of light in the room. His silhouette from the fire encompassed me, making me feel even more in the dark than I already did. How this man was hiding everything from me, yet I still clung to him. Living in his shadow.

"It's not like that." Cato's voice dropped.

"Not like what? How am I supposed to remember when you're all over the place. One minute you won't leave my side, the next you can't get far enough away from me."

"Dammit, Peeta!" Cato suddenly stood, his towering form making me feel even more in the dark. "It's not like that! You don't know, REMEMBER, what the hell happened! How it affected me, no both of us!"

"Then tell me!" I shouted back, my temper flowing through me. "How the hell am I supposed to know if no one tells me? Am I just some project to you?"

"You're not a project!" He paused, his face scrunched in deep concentration before he added. "At least… Not to me."

"Quit being so god damn cryptic! I can't take it anymore!" I felt my hands ball into fists. I didn't realize I was pacing until my hip connected with the counter. I stumbled backwards, noticing Cato's advance. "Stop! I'm fine."

He looked hurt, but I was done stepping lightly around people. I hated making him mad, but this was about me. I was the one that needed answers, not him. I started walking back to my room, Cato watching my every movement silently. His silence answered everything for me. "Maybe there's a reason we never worked out. I think I figured it out; you're a selfish prick who never cared about me. Only about yourself!"

"Peeta—" Cato's voice rang out, but I slammed my door shut cutting his voice off. I had a right to be mad. Then why did I feel so guilty for it? I fell on my bed, trying to forget the night. One of only a few days I knew of, and I was already wishing them to disappear. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions. I didn't even know for sure if me and Cato were something before I lost my memory. It was only a suspicion. Sure he was attractive, but I hated the way he watched over me. The asshole should just tell me. Then again, it was my choice. I didn't want to know everything all at once, but they weren't giving me the answers I wanted. They said too much was connected. It would only lead to more questions. I didn't care anymore.

There was a knock at my door but I ignored it. "Peeta, can we talk?" It was Cato. I didn't want to talk to him anymore. He didn't have the right to be mad at me, this shit was stupid.

"Peeta… Please." He asked again. "I'm trying. You were right, it was all about me. I was so happy to have you back that I forgot about what happened to you."

I pulled myself into the fetal position, holding my legs against my chest. It was still about him. He only wanted my forgiveness so he could feel better about himself.

"I don't want to lose you." His voice was low. Hearing the door creak, I knew he was leaning against it, begging to be let in. "I've lost you too many times; some because of me, others because you were ripped away from me."

Looking towards the door, I felt my legs stir. Wanting to let him in, wanting to hear him out. My head said to let him sit outside my door; the rest of me wishing he'd bust in and tell me everything. I was on my feet, walking towards the door before I could even contemplate what I was doing. Resting against the door, waiting for him to talk again; needing him to say something.

"Peeta?"

I cracked the door open. He was leaning against the frame, hands buried in his golden hair. His eyes caught mine and his posture changed, suddenly standing straight. "How did you lose me? I'm right here."

He looked around hesitantly at first, trying to hide his eyes from me. After a moment, the blue was all I could see. "I've pushed you to far once. It was one of the worst… And best nights of my life."

Opening the door fully, I waved him in. He tip-toed in, thinking to much noise would scare me off. He took a seat at the edge of my bed and I shut the door. I walked over to him, more loudly than he had, and sat next to him.

"It was the first night we admitted to each other…" His gaze was on his hands, absent mindedly playing with his thumbs. "Back then, I wasn't as good with words. Hell, I'm still not, but I'm getting better. I owe that to you."

I wanted to shake him. Spit it out before I kick your ass out. "We were growing closer. I remember it like it was yesterday. You told me about your past, at the time I wasn't ready to tell you mine. Instead of telling you, I asked you why. Why me? Of everyone, why were you so interested in me?"

I sat silently. A simple 'why me' was the cause of our destruction? How pathetic. I was expecting a story slightly more adventurous, more meaningful.

"I was so blunt about it. Not caring how it came out, only wanting to hear your answer."

"And how exactly was this the best night of your life?"

"After you stormed off, Cl—she talked me into apologizing. You were so mad at me. Watching you beat the shit out of a punching bag, I knew there was no better ally to have in the arena."

Arena? What is he talking about? I didn't want to interrupt him. And that girl's name; He started to tell me, but then stopped. As if the name held more meaning to him and was unbearable to say.

"Back then, I was terrible at apologies. In fact, it was the first one I ever said. You didn't want to listen to me. You told me everything, and I told you nothing. There was no trust. I some how convinced you to hear me out. I told you everything, everything you wanted to know about me. Then…"

"Then what?" I asked. My only answer was his shift in position. He leaned on his hand, his other stretching out towards me. Blue eyes staring right into me, sparking something in the pit of my stomach. Fingers that were softer than I expected outlined my jaw, making their way to the nape of my neck. His touch was fire; my eyes shutting tightly as I leaned into him.

His lips ghosted against mine, barely making contact; asking for permission. Eagerly, I leaned into him, meeting his kiss and letting the fire build. His hair was like silk flowing between my fingers. I didn't even notice my hands had moved; having a mind of their own. My mind was only on my hands for a moment, switching when his tongue begged for entry. My hands dropped from his hair to lower on his neck, letting myself relax and fall back; pulling him along with me.

"Cato?"

His weight shifted on top of me, his irritation obvious. "Cato? Are you in there?"

He groaned and pulled away from me, my hand sliding from his neck down his back and resting on his hip. "What?" He shouted to Johanna outside my room.

"You have a phone call."

"Take a damn message! I'm busy!"

"I ain't your fuckin' secretary." Johanna shouted in return and jiggled the door handle. "Pants on boys, I'm coming in. Or don't. Not like I haven't seen them before."

She's seen me naked? The door creaked open and Johanna appeared. Cato rolled to the side and glared at her. "What do you want?"

"Tigress is on the phone. She didn't even know you were here. She called me trying to find you." Johanna answered.

"Tigress?" Cato seemed to realize what was going on and jumped off the bed. "Did she say anything?"

"A little bit, but I should talk to you about it later." She eyed me and I felt like a stranger in the conversation. Even though I undoubtedly knew it was about me.

Cato looked back at me, searching me for an answer. "Just go, you answered my question. Kind of."

He mouthed an apology and disappeared along with Johanna. Making myself more comfortable, I laid my head against the pillow. There was no doubt in my mind; that night was our first together. It answered some questions. It also made me think our relationship was unstable. Then again, that was the beginning of what we had, or at least that's what Cato told me. What could push us apart after that? What was the arena? And most of all, the question that was still unanswered, who was that girl?

The next day was boring. Cato was avoiding me and Johanna wouldn't say a word. I knew what ever happened last night was about me. I needed to know, but no one was saying anything. The look of worry on Cato's face, and even Johanna's told me something was wrong. Most of the day was spent in my room, forcing myself to start a new painting. It's shape started to take appearance. A dark attic, or cellar… There were men everywhere, and this time I noticed Cato. It was hard to miss him, he took up most of the picture. Despite Cato in it, on his knees before me, the painting gave me a different feeling, one I didn't expect, one where I was afraid. Hate.

"Peeta?" The knock on my door sounded muffled, and I didn't recognize the voice. Walking over to my door, I cracked it open.

"Who is—" What the hell? It wasn't even human! Some strange cat like… thing was on the other side. Slamming the door shut, I jumped back to my bed. "Cato! There's an intruder!"

"Peeta, it's okay. It's Tigress." Cato's voice rang out. "See, I told you. He doesn't remember a thing."

"Peeta, you should come out here. We have things to talk about. Questions that need to be answered."

"It won't be any good, Tigress. I found him, he doesn't have a clue how he ended up here." Johanna echoed from the kitchen.

"I still need to see if he can remember anything. Maybe if I tell him, it could spark something. You said he remembered something, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but nothing else." Cato muttered.

I walked towards the door and opened it again. I couldn't help myself with the question that slipped from my lips. "What are you?"

Tigress ignored the question and motioned for me to follow her, taking a seat at the table. Following her hesitantly, I sat furthest away from her; making sure that Cato and Johanna were between the two of us in case 'she' decided to make any move.

"Peeta, I hear you don't remember anything… But it's crucial that you do." The thing stopped talking. I tried to remind myself, Tigress, but she was so foreign to me and I wasn't even sure if she was still human. She waited for a response and I nodded my head that I understood.

"I'm going to be blunt. There's a warrant out for your execution. You are to be killed on sight. I just want to know how this whole thing started. The Peeta I knew wouldn't just attack the head doctor for no reason. Unless what he says is true. That possibility worries me."

"Dammit, Tigress! He wouldn't be trying to bring the Capitol back!" Cato shouted at Tigress. "Even after… Even after, he realized the Capitol needed to fall!"

"But you know what he is. Part of him may have wanted it." Tigress explained.

"What are you all talking about?" I asked. "Wanted what?"

"The doctor that was bringing you back to headquarters said that you agreed to a procedure. A procedure that would have brought your old memories back."

"Old memories?" I asked. "So, not only did I lose my memory once, but I lost it twice?"

"Yes." Tigress spoke softly. "Well, no. Not exactly. He said that you attacked him. Trying to use his position against him and bring the Capitol back. Headquarters found out and instantly put out your death sentence. I knew it couldn't be true, but I had my suspicions. Which is why I resigned and tried to find you. My best guess was that you were with Cato, or that Cato was trying just as hard to find you."

"Why would someone want me dead?" I asked. "I mean, aren't I already dead? Or at least shouldn't be alive?"

Cato jumped in with his own question, obviously wanting mine to go unanswered. "I was there when he left, he showed no signs of it, unless he was hiding them. Even then, he was in to much pain to keep anything hidden."

"Well, we have time to figure it out. No one knows Peeta is here. I doubt they'd think he was held up with Johanna. At least for now."

"Great… So you're staying too?" Johanna asked and sarcastically added, "The more the merrier."

"I have a question." Cato asked. "How could they convince the public? Peeta's a war hero, the public loves him."

"They said that he's unstable. I don't know how accepted that answer was, but for the most part… It seemed to work." Tigress answered. All four of us sat in an uncomfortable silence for a moment before Cato stood, his chair tipping over in his haste.

"I need a moment. This is all—" The crack of the glass made all of us jump, the embedded arrow in Cato's shoulder had everyone on their feet.

"Impossible! You're supposed to be dead!" Cato shouted, sinking to the floor. The door burst open, a large dark skinned man running towards us. Tigress jumped to her feet ready to attack him. His hands grabbed her wrists quickly, pinning her in his embrace.

"Tigress!" Cato shouted from the floor. I saw him trying to crawl towards me. "Johanna! Protect Peeta!"

I turned to Johanna as she tried to reach for her axes, but a young girl was standing between them and her. "Get out of my way, little girl!" Johanna shouted. Everything was happening so quickly. I ran towards Cato, but the girl with the bow and arrow was already at his side, an arrow drawn and aimed right at his head. I spun towards Johanna in time to see her trip to the floor, a tall man with a trident behind her and pinning her to the floor.

I was alone. I could fight, Cato told me I could. I had to protect them, but it was 4 against 1. Scratch that, 5 against 1. "It can't be. The girl from my dreams. You're real." The girl from my dreams walked into the house, her black hair settling on her shoulders. Not a mark on her. I only knew her from my dream, yet there was nothing around her eye. She lifted a knife at me. That knife… it was familiar, somehow. Dammit, Peeta. Now's not the time to reminisce.

"What do you want?" I asked angrily. She made no move. Her throw was quick, the knife flying at me seemingly in slow motion. Buried to the hilt in my thigh, I didn't feel the pain at first, having felt myself crash to the floor before my wound registered.

"Peeta!" Cato shouted.

The girl was on top of me, both of her eyes burning through me. She wasn't just a dream, she was the beginning of a nightmare.

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A/N: Hopefully that didn't suck. Trying to get the main story going. Hope you enjoyed.


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